


Starshine

by Beneath_the_Trees



Category: Inazuma Eleven, Inazuma Eleven GO
Genre: Angst, Black Magic (Megan Derr) AU, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Demons, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, It'll be like two paragraphs, M/M, Physical Abuse, Violence, and then mentioned other times, just a bit, quite a bit of fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2020-12-21 15:49:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21077438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beneath_the_Trees/pseuds/Beneath_the_Trees
Summary: Upon finding the body of his best friend Itsuki brutally murdered, High Paladin Touma is left stumped as to who would kill him and why. In order to solve the murder, though, he must cooperate with one of the highly despised necromancers: men who are so similar to demons, it’s almost amazing they aren’t one already.Except the necromancer Hyouga isn’t at all what he expected. With wit sharp enough to cut down even the High Paladin himself and strength Touma had never seen the likes of before, Hyouga has the power of the Goddess and a temperament to match.It doesn’t take long for them to realize solving a murder is the least of their problems, and in order to save a kingdom they’ll have to unravel centuries of lies and misunderstandings.(Based on the book Black Magic by Megan Derr)





	1. Prolouge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jazer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jazer/gifts).

> A gift, for the wonderful Jazer who got me onto the Itetsuki/Yukimura ship and let me be a part of her crew there. May this fulfil your desires for knight Itetsuki protecting prince/sorcerer Hyouga.
> 
> (side note: everyone is referred to by first name, and the Yukimura Family are not related (or in Natsume and Haruka's case, married yet))

The screaming stopped. The pleas were silenced.

The Goddess’ pain flared to life in his chest, pulsing in time with the gaping hole in Hayato’s chest as cheers began outside. His shoulders shook as dread filled the pit of his stomach, settling there like an anchor.

She was gone.

_Miyu _was gone.

He felt numb. Drained. There had been no one else he’d ever loved more than Miyu, and now she’d been killed by the very same people Hayato had considered his brothers in arms. How had it come to this? All because Miyu had defended Hayato; all because they’d loved where there shouldn’t have been love, they’d murdered her. His own death would soon follow, so long as he did not renounce his feelings.

Hayato cared no more for the High Paladin and his brethren; he’d rather die than renounce his love for Miyu. Nothing mattered anymore, not now that Miyu was dead.

Despair clawed at his chest, but his tears had all run dry and he was too exhausted to do anything else. Even the gentle, warm pulsing of the Goddess in his chest did nothing to ease his pain like it once could have. He loved his Goddess, believed in her and how much she loved her people, but he’d loved Miyu more.

A lock clicked open in the distance; he raised his head slowly, acceptance making his bones heavy. So then, it was time for him, too, to be executed. As the murmuring voices and steps drew ever closer, Hayato silently got to his feet. Though they’d defeated him the minute they’d killed Miyu, he tilted his head up in defiance at the sight of armor gleaming in the weak light of a torch and did not bother to mask his hate as he stared down into the eyes of High Paladin Valentin.

“Hayato.” Valentin said his name like he’d done him some sort of favor, reassuring and gentle. He did not deserve to be High Paladin, and Hayato did not care if the Goddess took offense to the thought. Valentin had murdered Miyu without a thought, even through the begging, the pleads, the screaming, the bidding of the Goddess—

He felt tears fall from his eyes, anger and pain pulling them from the dredges of what was left. How had Hayato ever looked up to him? Thought him kind? Understanding?

He was little more than the demons they fought.

“Hayato,” Valentin said again. “You’re free now. I know you think you and that demon…” His lips curled; Hayato tasted something vile on his tongue. “She’d bewitched you, Hayato. You’re free; realize it and renounce those false feelings—”

“They were not false!” Hayato snarled, not realizing he had moved until he felt the harsh sting of power launching him back with a pained grunt. Valentin paused a moment by the door, as if debating what he wanted to do, before opening the cell door, hauling Hayato to his feet, and embracing him.

Hayato did his best not to shudder from revulsion, shoving Valentin away instead. Valentin did not go far, digging his nails into flesh of Hayato’s forearms but giving him more of an arm’s length distance. Hayato did his best to place all his hate into his expression; Valentin flinched, though his eyes showed no remorse.

“She was just a demon. A vile, deceptive demon. Why—”

“I loved her,” Hayato choked out, trying to keep his dying heart from crushing his lungs. “She loved me. What is so hard to understand? There was no black magic, no spells or curses or deceptions. The Goddess guided us to each other, She _blessed our union_ and you took her from me!” By the end of his words Hayato was screaming, twisting free of Valentin’s hold and swinging his fist into Valentin’s nose.

Before he could do much else Valentin pinned him to the floor and Hayato screamed in rage and hate and grief. His despair was only amplified by the sharp pain of the Goddess’ anguish in his chest; Her paladins were not behaving as they should. This was not what was supposed to happen— Hayato and Miyu were supposed to be the start of something new and wonderful. Instead, they were another tragedy in this bitter struggle that She never should have let go for so long.

“Why?” Valentin demanded, the anger and bitterness in his voice causing Hayato to still beneath him. “Why her and not—” He cut himself off, biting his tongue and instead gripping Hayato’s wrists just a little bit harder.

Hayato felt his blood freeze over as he met Valentin’s eyes and realization hit. Valentin had…

That just made it all worse. Perhaps Hayato would have forgiven anything Valentin had done once, but he would never, _never_ forgive him for this. Not for slaughtering Miyu. He couldn’t even bring himself to feel sorry for not returning Valentin’s feelings.

Any man or woman would have gladly done anything for the chance at Valentin’s favor—the Lady Irina especially has tried many a time in the past— but all Hayato wanted was ink black skin with short cropped hair and body covered in scars from swords, knives, and burns. The worst had been on her back, two ragged edges where wings had been hacked off. As a demon soldier from the Lost North, Miyu’s life had been brutal and cruel, but Miyu herself had not.

There had been her vibrant eyes two shades past Goddess azure. The soft, gentle smile she had whenever they’d seen each other, the way she wore the blue sapphire gem he’d given her around her neck with pride. The clawed hands that cradled his face and the tail that’d lightly whack him upside the head when he’d make a bad joke, the infuriating glint she’d get in her eyes as she’d tease him. The softness she’d show him in the nights, warming him in ways he’d never known he could feel.

It was all gone. Forever.

“Renounce her, Hayato,” Valentin pleaded with voice no louder than a whisper. “You’re too good a man to waste, losing to demonic corruption. What of your brethren? I saved you, Hayato. I could—I could love you better than any—”

Hayato roared and threw Valentin off him, succumbing once more to blind rage and hate. “I will never renounce!” He shouted, spitting the words with all the strength he could muster and watching with dark amusement as Valentin recoiled. He got to his feet, looking down at Valentin. “Miyu was a demon. I loved her. I loved her more than life, more than the Goddess herself.” He declared the words proudly, grinning all the while with what little remained of his love through the grief and drying tear-tracks on his face. “I will never renounce my love for Miyu. I shall go to that pyre proudly, knowing that the Goddess blessed us and approved of our union where you all have failed.”

Valentin’s eyes hardened, turning to dull stones with jagged edges. “So be it.” He stood, grabbing Hayato’s wrist hard enough to bruise, and hauled him roughly from his cell before throwing him at the feet of two paladins waiting outside. “Bind him,” He snapped. “Our brother Hayato is too far gone to be saved. He must burn else he become one himself.”

“Yes, High Paladin,” The paladins murmured, resigned. They looked miserable, but Hayato did not care. He’d be with Miyu soon enough, and that was enough for him.

Hayato did not protest as he was led from the dungeons or tied to the pyre. Said nothing as the High Priest finished his prayers and the pyre was lit.

As the flames rose higher and higher, Hayato looked at the sky one last time, feeling the Goddess pulse and shiver in his chest as she cried and mourned.

He looked down at the people he once called brethren and smiled, even as he smelled his own flesh burning.


	2. Chapter 1: Necromancers

In his short time as a paladin, Touma had seen many tragedies and many more bloodbaths. He’d seen everything that could be done to humans: seen them crushed, dismembered, broken in ways that physical healing would never save. He’d seen them go crazy, seen people destroyed by the hands of demons and the destruction their black magic could cause.

He didn’t like to think of what happened to women and children.

He’d seen many nightmarish sights as a paladin, and he was sure to see many more by the time he finally died, but none of them compared to this.

The gore covered every inch of the study Itsuki had taken as his own when he desired peace and quiet while working; all that was left of his best friend was scattered limbs and blood staining every surface.

Slamming the door shut, Touma’s stomach churned as he placed a ward over the door to prevent others from entering. No one else needed to see such a sight; not even Touma’s worst enemy. He couldn’t hold down the bile rising in his throat for long, though—the second he came across a chamber pot a few doors down, he threw up. He coughed, gagging a second time as his brain traitorously recalled the horrific sight, and wiped his mouth clean with the back of his hand before belatedly remembering the handkerchief tucked in his tunic.

Wiping his hand and mouth with the small bit of cloth, Touma leaned against the wall and took a steadying breath as he tried to get his brain back in working order and stop trembling. Thank the Goddess that She led him to the scene before anyone else could find it first.

Her warmth pulsed in his chest, bright and hot, spreading through his body to lend sorely needed comfort and strength. He closed his eyes and pressed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets, taking another shaky breath and slowly calming the trembling in his limbs.

Why would someone do this? How did they manage something so gruesome— all without alerting any of the thousand inhabitants in the castle to it, including the king, high priest, and high paladin? _Who _would do it in the first place? Sure, Itsuki had a couple rough edges, but he was friends with and loved by everyone in the castle. He’d had no enemies, as far as Touma was aware.

And they were close. Closer than most probably expected: they were like brothers. So who would dare to attack someone so close to Touma, High Paladin of the Kingdom Hakryn?

He pressed his hands harder into his eyes, pushing the trembling in his arms and the knot in his throat back down into his gut where they belonged. He didn’t have time to mourn—even less time to spend here, shaking and stunned. The king needed to be informed, as well as the high priest. Then… Then he’d have to go back into that horrid room in order to find the answers to his questions.

Quickly turning on his heel and away from the room, Touma started for the king’s chambers. He’d have to be informed first, while the high priest was still performing the dawn ceremony. By the time he finished reporting to the king, he could then inform the high priest with little chance of an unwanted audience. After that, no one else should know unless absolutely necessary, otherwise they might be facing panic.

It was early enough that the halls were mostly deserted as he made his way through the castle. He stopped by the kitchen in order to wash the taste of vomit from his mouth, not bothering to grab anything to eat even though he knew it was about to be a long, trying day: the smells of food cooking away usually made him a mixture of hungry and at peace, but today they made him nauseous. He wasn’t sure he could eat anything solid for at least a few more hours.

When he reached the throne room, he paused at the doorway. King Denji sat in front of a small crowd, up early to tend to his own duties of listening to the people who’d come far and across dangerous lands to see him. Whether or not he’d bother to address the problem, though? Well, that was anyone’s guess, much to Touma’s ire. Sure, he _did_ address them, eventually, but more often than not it was after much prodding from Touma.

Denji took that moment to look up and catch Touma’s eyes. Touma motioned to King Denji, walking forward and gently pushing his way to the front. Within minutes, the room was cleared save for them. “What’s the matter now?” Denji asked.

Touma recounted his morning with no hidden details, explaining how he’d woken to a painful throbbing of alarm and grief from the Goddess that made his chest hurt and body ache. Then how he’d combed the castle from top to bottom while using the throbbing to find the source and how it hadn’t taken long to come across Itsuki’s remains.

When Touma finished speaking, Denji was silent. He very nearly looked shell-shocked, frozen in his seat. “And? No clues as to who could have done this?” He asked.

“I haven’t yet searched it,” Touma replied, “I sealed it and will examine the room and Itsuki’s remains soon. I needed to inform you and wanted to speak the high priest first; perhaps he’s heard something that may be able to help us.”

Denji nodded, tapping his fingers on the arm of the throne. Touma glanced at it, but continued. “For now, I believe this should stay between us three until we’ve got an answer or the situation calls for it. The last thing we need is panic, after all.”

“Agreed,” Denji rumbled. “Go speak with the high priest and see what you can learn. I want you to keep me informed, and I give you full access to do whatever you need to do to avenge Itsuki, High Paladin. Even if it means killing the killer.”

Touma bowed, head low. “Sire,” He said and paused a moment before straightening and turning sharply away on his heel. He departed from the room and the castle keep before crossing a courtyard to the rear entrance of the royal cathedral.

It was close to the castle’s size, built to accommodate each person in the city and even the miles of farms past that for years to come. Hakryn had always been a small yet powerful kingdom, so it had only outgrown the cathedral within the past two decades, but it remained the heart of faith for all those who loved the Goddess.

The dawn prayers were just concluding as Touma reached the main room, those who had come quickly leaving so as to get started with their days. High Priest Ryuu was speaking with a small group of people, but at the sight of Touma he excused himself and came to meet him halfway.

“High Paladin,” He greeted in that soft, inquisitive way that only he seemed capable of. “I sensed something amiss when I rose this morning, but it seems She wished for me to wait and learn of the problem. You’re the unhappy messenger, I take it?”

Touma felt his lips quirk up into a smile. “Is it that apparent?” He asked, though his humor was quick to disappear as he motioned towards Ryuu’s office. Only once the door was closed and locked behind them did he speak again. “Itsuki’s been murdered.”

The silence that filled the air was strong with grief, even as Ryuu’s expression remained unchanged beneath the scarf he wore high over his chin. “Tell me,” Ryuu said quietly, motioning to the chairs in the room as he sat behind his desk.

Once more Touma went through his morning, sparing no detail even as his voice shook from the memories and grief. He’d opted for standing at the start, but by the time he made it to finding Itsuki’s remains he was sitting in one of the chairs. Through it all, Ryuu was silent, going white-faced and stricken when Touma mentioned the state of the office. His hands, folded neatly onto his desk, trembled.

“I’ve yet to search the study,” Touma finished, “But I’ll begin looking as soon as—”

“No,” Ryuu interrupted, shaking his head. A hand went to his forehead, pressing down as his eyes went cloudy and distant, like they always did when he heard Her Voice.

Touma and the rest of the paladins felt Her as a pulsing warmth in their chests. Within the warmth he could sense Her emotions and wants, Her feelings and desires, and while the other paladins felt the same, they did so to a lesser degree. The priests did not feel Her, but rather heard Her. They heard Her whispers, small snatches of things and incomplete sentences, but never completely clear and never what She didn’t want them to hear. Ryuu, as High Priest, of course heard Her most clearly of all.

Ryuu’s eyes slipped closed as he fell into his trance, the hand still on his desk curling into a fist that went white-knuckled within seconds. For several minutes, there was only silence.

When Ryuu came out of the trance there was no warning, just as there had been little warning for when he fell into it. As he opened his eyes there were still smoky swirls of azure blue, the color of the Goddess, fading inside them as they turned back to his usual dark teal grey. In the heat of battle, Touma’s eyes did the same as his power raged and flared.

“This mystery is not one for you to solve alone,” Ryuu said. “She tells me another will come that can provide the answer. But…” He paused, eyebrows furrowing. “I sense something dark. Strange. This thing—” He winced at the same time a sharp pang of anger and reprimand flitted through Touma’s chest, quickly correcting himself as he met Touma’s eyes. “This _person_—is bound to you somehow, High Paladin, and it will take the both of you to uncover Itsuki’s murderer. Not you, not him—_both _of you.”

Touma nodded slowly, though he wasn’t quite sure he understood what was being said. What was this being the Goddess was sending them? How would he have access to answers Touma apparently couldn’t find on his own? “I don’t understand,” He said point blank.

Ryuu shrugged, letting out a small wary chuckle. “I’m not quite sure I understand it, myself,” He admitted. “But that’s the way things are for those of us close to the Goddess, isn’t it? She likes letting us wonder and theorize.”

The pulse of amusement in Touma’s chest said that the Goddess agreed, and it pulled an exasperated smile out of Touma in response. “Perhaps one day she’ll give us a straight answer.”

A rippling warmth of laughter, the amusement growing stronger. Ryuu snickered quietly from where he sat, giving Touma a small nod of agreement.

The joy did not last much longer, however, when Touma had to bring the topic of conversation back to the matter at hand. His voice was no more than a whisper as he asked, “What should I do about the body?”

Ryuu was silent, placing a hand over Touma’s and giving it a small squeeze. Touma’s eyes widened and he looked up at Ryuu trying to spot if this was some sort of grim joke.

“I have to _leave him like that_?” He choked on the words, the thought crushing him inside and out.

Ryuu nodded, eyes pained as he stood and walked around his desk to pull Touma into a tight hug.

For a moment, Touma was frozen stiff. But then the warmth of Ryuu’s embrace had the walls Touma placed up earlier that day to crumble. He clung to Ryuu, eyes filling with tears as he finally let himself grieve. Itsuki had been more brother than friend to Touma; they’d grown up together, had begun training together. Itsuki had even been the one to push Touma towards trying the knights instead of the priests.

_“You’re too brutish for priesthood; you’d scare away all the worshipers.”_ At the time he’d said it as a joke, but when Touma became a paladin and, shortly after, High Paladin, Itsuki had been the only one not surprised in the slightest.

Touma grit his teeth at the memory, gripping Ryuu’s priest robes tightly.

“Why?” He asked when he finally pulled away, wiping tears roughly from his eyes. The Goddess and Ryuu’s warmth combined had been enough to soothe him sooner than what might have been had he was alone. “Why would someone do this to him? I have to know.”

“And you will,” Ryuu assured placing a hand on Touma’s shoulder. “In due time, Touma.”

That wasn’t fast enough for Touma. His mind began to race with endless possibilities, none of them all too pleasant, of how to make whoever murdered Itsuki pay for what they’d done. Then, he recalled Ryuu’s words. “You said someone was coming to help me? Who? Why do they feel like black magic?”

Ryuu shook his head, hands up in a placating manor. “I only know what I told you. She doesn’t wish for us to know much; you know how she works. Sometimes, ignorance is helpful to a cause as a way to withhold assumptions.” He paused a moment, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “Search his room. A horrid murder such as this must have left some sort of clue, don’t you think?”

Touma nodded, taking a deep breath to calm himself and bring his mind back under control from the spiraling thoughts. “Of course. Thank you.”

“The Goddess will not let this tragedy go unpunished,” Ryuu said by way of farewell as Touma pulled away and made his way to the door. “Have faith, High Paladin.”

“Neither will I,” Touma said in turn. “I’ll be back. Thank you, High Priest.”

Touma left the cathedral feeling marginally better than he had when he’d walked in. He didn’t know what to do, even if Ryuu had suggested he check the room again, and frankly, he wasn’t sure he could stomach checking it. Not when the wound was still this fresh.

He found himself going to the stables, waiting impatiently until a stable hand brought him the reins of his horse. He told them he’d return by nightfall, and with little more instruction past “light the signal should you need me sooner”, he made his way from the castle.

A full mark away from the castle rested a small place Touma considered his secret hideaway inside the Black Forest. He’d come across it a little over two years ago, shortly after becoming a paladin, and it’d cemented itself as one of his favorite places to visit almost immediately. It was far from the castle, which meant he couldn’t visit near as much as he wished, but it was a nice place to spend time with his thoughts and nothing else to bother him, especially in the coming winter months. Letting his horse graze and drink from the nearby stream after he dismounted, Touma made his way to the massive oak tree that marked the center of the clearing.

Quite possibly the oldest tree in the forest, Touma wondered just how many things this tree had seen in its life. He could feel by the way his chest pulsed with a bittersweet warmth that it was very dear to the Goddess, and if legend served true then the Royal Castle was once in this very area before civil war had torn the Holy Kingdom of the Goddess into three and the old castle had been completely destroyed in the fighting. He thought the legend silly, as no one had ever found the lost castle no matter how hard or long they searched, but if it had ever stood in place of the Black Forest, he supposed only the Goddess and the oak would know.

Which, quite frankly, was just fine for Touma; he had his clearing, and that was all he needed. He settled at the base of the oak, in a crook of space between its roots, and turned his head up to the baring branches in thought. His mind churned over the morning slowly, because as much as he hated thinking of that scene he knew he wouldn’t find any answers by avoiding it, and Itsuki didn’t deserve to wait for his killer to be found. He could cry further over the loss later.

Why would Itsuki be murdered? Just as he’d insisted Touma was meant for the paladins, Touma and the rest of the castle had known Itsuki was meant for priesthood. Some had even said he was destined to one day succeed Ryuu as High Priest. He’d never harmed anyone, be it with words or sword, so… why? What was the reason?

The questions and the Goddess’ gentle reassurances reminded him another, quite possibly more pressing concern: who was this dark stranger he needed the help of? ‘Dark Stranger’ could mean many things, but the one that first came to mind was black magic. And black magic made him think of demons, but there was no way that could be possible. Demons were the result of humans messing with things they should not have been, falling into black magic that slowly turned them ravenous and desperate for the life and spirits of those untainted.

The feeding turned them into black-skinned, horned monsters that grew wings when they’d gotten so strong, no one but a paladin could dare to stand against them. So it was impossible that this stranger was a demon. Was it someone who’d been assaulted by a demon, forever haunted by the ordeal and carrying the taint of the beast? Or was it a necromancer?

Touma shook his head at the thought; no, a necromancer was just as unlikely as a demon. They were mere steps away from _being_ demons by dealing with black magic and death. What good would they do?

That got him a sharp, angry pulse similar to the one he’d gained when Ryuu called the stranger a thing. Somehow, he’d angered the Goddess. Rubbing at his chest, Touma huffed. “What?” He grumbled, “It’s true.”

A second pulse of the same intensity; Touma could almost hear the chiding, “_Don’t be a brat!” _he’d have received if he were a priest.

Letting out a sigh, he focused past the branches above him and instead at the overcast sky. Midmorning and he was already exhausted; he almost didn’t want to leave the peace this clearing offered and instead sleep the day away. Except there was too much he had to do and he had to begin heading back to the castle soon—he couldn’t afford to be gone much longer.

As soon as he thought of getting to his feet, though, he found that the Goddess’ warmth flooded him from head to toe, warming him against the autumn chill and making him drowsy.

He shook the drowsiness away; sleeping in the Black Forest was never a good idea. It was too far from help should he need it, even if demons never lurked within the forest due to how close the Royal Cathedral, the Heart of the Goddess, was. Yet Her warmth persisted, stronger than ever as it reached the tips of his fingers and toes and brought the drowsiness back tenfold. Ryuu’s words rang in his head: _The Goddess will not let this go unanswered._

Right. The Goddess knew what She was doing; if She wanted him to sleep, then who was he to disobey her? Another, gentler pulse of warmth filled his chest, a murmur of agreement that gave Touma the final nudge into relaxing enough he fell asleep, resting against the trunk of the ancient oak.

_SNAP!_

Touma jerked awake at the sound of a branch snapping, leaping to his feet and drawing his sword from its place at his side not even a breath later. He cursed in his head at the realization that it was past dark, the forest eerily silent as he looked for whatever had caused him to awaken.

A figure, cloaked in shadows, stood half-behind a tree at the edge of the clearing, watching him. They were hidden by layers of heavy, dark robes and held a long staff in one hand. “Who are you?” Touma demanded, twisting his sword just so that it caught the faint moonlight just right. “Reveal yourself, in the name of the Goddess!”

The figure scoffed, though the sound abruptly cut off like they hadn’t actually meant to make noise. Touma’s eyes narrowed as the only other response he got was rustling fabric and another twig snapping beneath the figure’s foot.

Why had none of the forest’s inhabitants made their presence know? Did this stranger frighten them and make them anxious to show themselves? They were no demon, Touma was sure of that, but then why was the forest around them so afraid? Thoughts of what might’ve happened had he not awakened made Touma grit his teeth; he’d been foolish to think sleeping here was a good idea.

He raised his sword a little higher in warning, “Reveal yourself, stranger” He repeated, “or suffer from your silence!”

The stranger laughed, a cold and harsh sound. “Oh please,” He sneered, “Get off your high horse and learn to ask questions instead of go straight to violence; you’re not the only one playing a guessing game here.”

Touma blinked, stunned.

Unaware, or perhaps, uncaring, the stranger continued. “I announce myself to no one, Paladin. I only mean to assure myself you were a fool arrogant enough to sleep in the Black Forest.” The man turned, disappearing into the trees.

“Hey!” Touma barked, sheathing his sword with a scowl and chasing after the man with a whistle for his horse to follow him. Though the Goddess’ power granted him the ability to see well enough in the dark he could navigate the dangerous terrain, the man he chased moved faster and far more elegantly.

When he finally managed to catch up, Touma threw himself at the man and caught him around the waist. “Hah, gotcha!” He grunted, though his pride was short lived as he proceeded to trip them both when his foot caught on a root and, to make matters worse, they went tumbling down a hill he’d failed to notice before throwing himself at the stranger.

They came to a stop in quite possibly the worst way: in the shallows of a lake and not knowing which way was what or who’s limbs were who’s. If it weren’t for the fact the stranger smelled strongly of incense and was much lither— or, wait, bony might be the better term if the elbow digging into his side was any indication-- than Touma, they might’ve been totally stuck.

The man growled beneath him, spitting out water. “Bastard paladin,” He snapped, an accent to his words that Touma couldn’t quite place but was familiar. “How much of an idiot are you? It’s a miracle we both still breathe, especially in this muck!” As if to accentuate his point, the man kicked a leg into the water and hit Touma’s shin in the process. “Get off me this instant or I swear, I’ll shove a knife in your throat!”

“Alright, alright!” Touma groaned, realizing the threat was a very real one from the level of anger radiating from the smaller body and steadily growing more and more embarrassed at such a poor blunder on his part. “I didn’t mean to send us tumbling, I swear. Least of all into water; I didn’t even realize we were following the stream’s pathway to its spring.” He said, slowly beginning to disentangle them.

Apparently taking too long, the man decided to take it upon himself to finish the job and kicked Touma off him and into the water with another loud splash. Touma spluttered, flailing for a moment as he once again righted himself before standing and fixing his leather armor. He shoved dripping wet, muddied hair from his eyes and glared at the stranger.

Wringing out the top layer of his robes and back on dry land, the man obviously cared little for the fact he just kicked Touma back into the water. “Paladins,” The man spat in obvious displeasure, twisting his robes between his hands. He winced at the sound of something popping within the threads while a cascade of water poured from them, then muttered something too low under his breath for Touma to hear. “What in the Goddess’ name are you even doing out here at this time? All by yourself, no less! I thought you only worked together in packs.”

“Who are _you_, child of the Goddess,” Touma retaliated with just as much energy, “To go about in the dark? Demons would attack you far sooner than they would me.”

“Ha!” The man scoffed; Touma could practically taste the derision in the air. “I owe you nothing, especially not after that dreaded tumble.” He waved a hand dismissively, shaking out the robes he held with the other and clicking his tongue in dissatisfaction. “Go back to your precious castle and leave the forest for those who can actually navigate the damned thing without nearly drowning someone in the process.”

The final thread of Touma’s patience snapped; he lurched forward with a speed that could only be Goddess-given and grabbed the man’s wrist to pull him close once again. Ignoring the squawk of indignance, he threw out his free hand and called to the Goddess, “Give me your light!” Bright azure light formed a sphere in his palm and lit up his surroundings, earning another shout from the man in his arms. Touma stared, shocked, at the man in front of him.

He was breathtaking.

He was a necromancer.

Touma leapt back like he’d been burned, causing the man to fall back into the lake’s shallows with a loud splash.

The man slowly lifted his head from the water, and after pushing his hair from his face leveled Touma with a glare that sent shivers down his spine even though he looked like little more than a wet kitten. “Paladin—" The man cut himself off, his jaw dropping as his own eyes widened from surprise. “You—You’re the _High Paladin_!”

What marked the necromancers from others were the streaks of white and grey in their hair, and though the man was soaked from head to toe there was no mistaking the vibrant white in the midst of midnight blue. It was long when wet—not as long as Touma’s own, but still long— and sticking to the man’s neck. In a few places it even reached his collar bone in length. His expression gave off the feel of all sharp edges, but his appearance was soft and cat-like. The sword at his side, the familiarity with which he seemed to have with it, and the light leather armor he wore only proved his point.

With a wince, Touma also noticed that it wasn’t just his imagination that the man was particularly bony; he was too thin and the clothes he wore were far too baggy and worn. The robes he’d been wringing out, now completely soaked again, had fraying edges at the very least.

While it was habit alone that had him reaching out to help the man to his feet, Touma couldn’t help but feel a bit worse about this whole ordeal. Sure, he still didn’t trust the man, but the least he could have done was _look_ before he leapt.

“Yes, that’s me.” He finally responded, wary of how the necromancer would react with his opinion of paladins clearly known.

The man’s glare deepened and he smacked Touma’s hand away before standing up once again, water pouring from his clothes as he did. He walked away from the lake and back towards the hill, stopping at the edge of the light’s circle. “Then you really, truly, are an idiot.” He whirled to face Touma, his wet robes nearly knocking him off his feet as he motioned to the forest around them. “_What, _pray tell, are you doing in the Black Forest in the dead of night?”

Touma returned his glare. “I could ask the same of you.” He replied, “As High Paladin I have no obligation to answer any questions, but I _do_ have the right to ask them of you and anyone else in this forest.” At the man’s indignant scoff, Touma held back a growl. “As I’m responsible for us ending up face first into a lake, I will answer your questions: I’d come here for some solitude and a chance to think. Someone close to me died today, and though I’d no intentions to fall asleep the Goddess insisted I rest.”

The man froze in wringing out his robes once again, eyes wide in shock before he grimaced and continued.

“My condolences.”

The words were spoken so quietly that Touma almost didn’t catch them, and with the speed at which the man continued speaking, he thought perhaps that was the point.

“I am traveling this way because the Goddess bids it,” The man said more clearly, shaking out his robes before pulling them back on. “That clearing, the oak-- do you go there often?”

Touma forced his expression to stay carefully controlled instead of the confusion he felt now. What had the man meant, ‘the Goddess bids it’? Necromancers couldn’t hear Her. “Not as often as I’d like,” He said, “Sadly, I can only come once in a blue moon, if that.”

The man’s frown grew deeper, arms crossing his chest tightly. “There’s… A deep sadness there. I thought it might’ve been yours.” He looked around the clearing, grumbling under his breath. Touma managed to catch the words “bastard idiot” and “staff”, so he had a pretty clear idea of what he might’ve said and, frankly, he didn’t appreciate it.

“Sadness?” Touma repeated, stunned that the man had apparently felt the same sadness he’d often felt when inside the Black Forest. But how could a necromancer sense such a thing? The largest part of the sadness and grief had come from the Goddess, and as far as he’d known he’d never once seen or heard of necromancers being able to commune with Her. It made the man’s earlier comment about following Her bidding even more confusing.

To be fair, Touma had never actually encountered a necromancer before. Seen them from a distance a tiny handful of times, sure, but practically all his knowledge came from the others around him. The most common knowledge was that they absorbed dead souls to feed their dark abilities, not unlike the demons feeling on the living. Such dark beings couldn’t commune with the Goddess.

…Could they?

Another reprimand twisted sharp and hot in his chest; he winced, trying not to scowl.

“Care to explain further?” He pressed, raising an eyebrow at the man.

The man tensed. “Something tragic happened there, obviously.” He scoffed distractedly, though his eyes were sad as he continued. “And it’s burrowed into the roots of that tree; into the land itself. That tree will never die, not so long as the sadness remains.” As he spoke, his voice grew soft and quiet, and he focused on the top of the hill, like he could see the tree even now. “Such is the way of the dead and how they die.”

For a while, they both were silent. Touma rolled the man’s words around in his head, trying to understand what he’d just been told.

Eventually the man heaved a large sigh and turned to face Touma again. “Well then. Shall we go to your castle? The sooner I get on with my duty, the sooner I can leave and you can go back to knocking others into lakes.”

Touma felt his cheeks flush, his hackles raising in embarrassment. “It was—” He cut himself off, deciding he didn’t have to explain himself once again, and instead focus on a more pressing concern. “Your duty?”

“_Yes_, my duty,” The man growled. Touma wondered when he’d stop shoving his foot into his mouth and making a fool of himself. “I was heading back home, to my place further east, when She suddenly woke me last night urging me west. Once I saw the Royal Castle, I figured that was my destination.” He cocked his hip to the side and shifted his weight to one foot, raising an eyebrow. “I take it a ghost is there and requires banishment?” He winced, then rubbed at his forehead as though it ached.

Touma’s confusion only grew. “That’s the second time you’ve mentioned Her, but how can Nec—”

He barely had time to block the punch that came straight for his face. Eyes blazing ghostly azure blue shook Touma to the core, drawing a sharp breath from him. Only those empowered and chosen by the Goddess had eyes like that. Yet Necromancers…

It didn’t make sense.

“If you dare,” The man’s voice was low, warning etched into each syllable. “Tell me that I practice dark magic, I will not hesitate to kill you where you stand. You have chased and knocked me down a hill for the better part of two marks now, and not once has your notorious sense for demons and black magic flared to life, has it? Or are you so stupid you can’t even tell?”

Anger flaring, Touma shoved the man away and sent him stumbling back a few steps. “I see and understand well that you don’t like me, Necromancer,” He hissed. “But I am still High Paladin chosen by the Goddess. The very same Goddess who has bestowed upon you powers, though I can’t possibly fathom as to why. If you do not give me the respect I am due, then the only part of the Royal Castle you will be seeing is the inside of a jail cell. Understand?”

The man sneered. “Yes, My Lord High Paladin,” He said, making a show of bowing low at the waist. Touma had thought it impossible to radiate that much mocking and condescending energy, but the man before him had clearly proved him wrong. Upon straightening and seeing the look on Touma’s face, he smiled sharp and baring of teeth.

Touma held his tongue, taking deep breaths to reign in his anger. They would get nowhere by being at each other’s throats, and if the necromancer had no plans to be civil, the least Touma could do was be civil instead. “If you do not practice black magic,” He began, rubbing his temples as he felt a headache begin to take shape. “Then why is that all anyone ever hears Necromancers are masters of? Even more, what is your business at the castle and why in Her name should I let you anywhere near it?”

“I already told you why, My Lord High Paladin,” The man said, rolling his eyes at the mention of the Necromancers’ reputation. “And perhaps you shouldn’t believe everything you hear. Yes, my business is death; I am a necromancer. Since She is pointing me to the castle, I assume there is a ghost that needs to be taken care of there.”

“Yes,” Touma tried not to groan, “But _why_? There are no ghosts there.”

“Don’t be daft; of course there are. You even said it yourself, someone—” The man abruptly cut off, looking uncomfortable. Touma belatedly realized his eyes burned with tears. The man looked away, clearing his throat awkwardly and continuing with far less bite. “Should the angry spirit remain, its presence will poison the castle and its inhabitants, including yourself, My Lord High Paladin.”

Touma swallowed down the lump in his throat at the reminder of what lay in the castle’s walls behind the sealed door, focusing instead on the pulsing warmth in his chest and using it as an anchor to calm himself with. While he did not believe the necromancer’s words, he _did_ believe in Ryuu and the Goddess. “Very well.”

He whistled for his horse, who’d taken to trotting in a nervous circle at the top of the hill while snorting and stamping her feet at the edge with worry, and scowled as the man next to him scoffed.

“I’d rather walk, thanks. I’m sure it’ll be much safer without your escort.”

“Oh, do you ever stop complaining?” Touma snapped, patience worn far too thin. “I did not mean to send us tumbling, I only wanted to know what stranger would appear in a place only I ever come.”

The man barked out a laugh, “A place where only you ever come? My Lord High Paladin, you really know nothing, don’t you? The Black Forest is common traveling ground for necromancers, as we’ve nothing to fear from the dark.”

This time Touma rolled his eyes, though he barely managed to stop himself from actually doing so. “No matter what you are, the demons would gladly feast upon you.” He said quietly, petting his horse’s neck to calm her nerves.

“Perhaps,” The necromancer agreed, fingers twitching like he wanted to reach for the horse as well. “But the rest of you are far scarier. Kill us just as quickly, but at least the demons do it to survive.” He laughed, turning away from Touma and heading over to the fallen logs at the side of the lake. “No, if death was something I feared, I wouldn’t have been a necromancer.” He kicked the closest log, watching as rotted wood fell away. “Now go away; I’ll be at the castle soon enough.”

Touma exchanged a look with his horse, who snorted and pawed at the ground with a hoof. “Yes, I quite think you’re right.” He muttered under his breath, glancing at the necromancer who’d proceeded to ignore that he was still there. Touma was on him in an instant, grabbing the necromancer and ignoring the sharp punches and kicks that followed as he threw him onto his horse and mounted behind while urging his horse forward with a click of his tongue. The necromancer thrashed, jabbing an elbow into Touma’s thigh as he shrieked, “Get me down from this infernal beast!”

Once they were back up the hill Touma halted his horse and wrangled the necromancer upright and into a sitting position before wrapping an arm firmly around his waist. “Stay still,” He hissed, “Or else you’ll fall and get hurt.”

“I thought I told you I wanted off!” The necromancer spat, still struggling in Touma’s hold and eyes alight with fury. “I don’t need your help!”

“How do you think the castle will treat you?” Touma asked instead, looking not at the necromancer but the forest ahead of them. The necromancer froze in his hold. “I promise I will make sure and see to it that they treat you well as soon as we reach it, but there’s no way they’d let you in without me there to give my approval.”

“You don’t think I know that?”

“Then you also know that things will go far more smoothly if you arrive with me.” He slowly unwound his arm from around the necromancer’s waist, shocked by just how cold the man was; sure they’d fallen into water in the tail end of autumn and were still rather wet, but where Touma had already begun to warm in solely his armor and tunic, the man in front of him still felt like ice under at least two layers of robes. Not to mention all the moving that he in particular had been doing; he should not be shivering so from all the activity.

“So why has the Goddess led you here?” He asked after a long bout of silence. “You say She has guided you, but you have also given me little reason to trust you.”

“I could say the same of you.”

Instead of shaking him, as Touma so badly wanted to do, he instead tightened his hold on his horse’s reins. “Do not vex me further,” He warned.

The necromancer slouched against him, arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t know why,” He huffed, “She hasn’t said; I only realized today that my destination was the royal castle. Never have I, or any of my colleagues, been sent or called there, and nor would we have ever gone willingly. We would not be well-received, after all, and problems tend to be greater elsewhere.” His fingers tapped against his forearms, shockingly pale in the night. “If the Goddess has sent me there, the situation must be rather dire.”

Touma was quite for a moment longer, thinking about what to say as the implications of what was happening well and truly set in. “…You’re here for Itsuki.” He stated, quiet. “Itsuki was murdered early this morn, or perhaps late in the night. The High Priest said that someone who reminded him of darkness would come to help solve this mystery, but the only things that came to mind at the words were black—ow! Stop that!”

The necromancer only dug his elbow into Touma’s gut harder. “If you dare say or imply that I do black magic, I _will_ maim you, High Paladin, no matter what you or the Goddess says. I and the others do not, and will _never,_ practice black magic.”

“If you hurt me, I won’t hesitate to return the action, Necromancer. I swear it.”

The necromancer growled and straightened once again, turning his head to look at Touma from the corner of his eye. “I have a name, you know.”

“And would you have given it had I asked?”

Silence once again filled the air, but neither were content. Touma had little doubt that the necromancer was as tired and hungry as he was, and the matter was not lightened by the fact the Goddess watched it all with the impression of cheerful, bright amusement like She was watching children play.

“What is your—”

“My name—”

They both paused as they realized the other was speaking, and lapsed once again into another tense silence.

After waiting a beat to see if the necromancer would continue, Touma sighed and restarted the conversation. “What is your name, Necromancer?” He asked softly.

“It’s Hyouga. And yours is High Paladin Touma, is it not?”

“It is.”

“How far from the castle are we?” A beat, then a quieter, “Who is Itsuki?”

Touma slowly drew in a breath, letting it out just as slow. He hated how the wounds were still raw. “About a mark’s journey. He was my best friend. A brother, almost. He was a priest in the castle, and brutally murdered some time in the night.”

Rough and calloused hands reached out and touched Touma’s wrist, ice cold against his warm skin and still trembling from the chill. Hyouga said nothing, but it almost felt better that way; he’d had enough condolences for the time.

When he spoke again, Hyouga spoke with a kindness Touma had not expected in light of his loathing. “Can you tell me how he was murdered? Or would you prefer I ask someone else?”

As much as Touma wished that Hyouga did in fact ask someone else, he knew there wasn’t any point. Only he knew the details best, and thus he should be the one to give them. “Only the High Priest and the King know. He… He was torn to pieces.” And for the third time that day, Touma recounted his morning of finding Itsuki’s body.

By the end, Hyouga was both wincing and nodding. “That’s definitely why the Goddess led me here.” He said as Touma finished. “Too many things off about the situation. For what it’s worth, the brutal nature of the act has definitely left a ghost, and they can tell us further what happened.”

Exhausted, drained, and far too bemused by the odd, rather small man in front of him, Touma simply nodded. He wasn’t sure he’d ever understand what Hyouga was talking about, but it was nice to have someone not mourning with him and instead trying to make him feel better about the situation as a whole. He urged his horse faster and tried not to find too much delight in the way Hyouga gave a small yelp of surprise.

All Touma wanted, by the time they reached the castle, was a warm meal and his bed. Perhaps a short bath if he was feeling more awake, though he found that idea fading more and more as they continued on and the creeping feeling that even sleep was still far away in the future as they came upon view of the royal castle grew; at least all looked well.

Home to thousands and built to protect the cathedral as well as the royal family, the castle was a magnificent piece of craftsmanship. It was defended by two outer walls, at least fifteen feet high and massive towers that doubled as barracks spread throughout.

Before even the walls, though, any possible intruders would have to breach and survive the moat, which was nearly twice as deep as it was wide—and it was as wide as the walls were tall. Touma could barely make it to the bottom in one breath. The moat was fed by the ocean, and an enormous drawbridge was the only way inside that, once closed, did not open at night unless it was by order of the high paladin or king. Past the drawbridge were the immense gates and gatehouses, which were the third largest structures in the castle after the cathedral and the keep itself.

Then, should anyone make it past the first gate, there was a dark tunnel rife with traps and other murderous things before they so much as glanced at the outer ward, and _then_ there was the outer ward, inner gate, and inner ward before finally making it to the keep and the cathedral behind it.

Whoever had designed the castle knew very well what they were doing, and because of it, the castle rarely had to worry about someone making it too far into their defenses before finally being stopped.

As they passed, Touma glanced at the outer wall and was pleased to see that all the guards were in their positions, the torches were lit, and everything was as it should be. Good, he was in no mood to deal with anyone who thought his absence meant they could slack off. Not that Haruka would ever let that happen, of course, but it never stopped a few of the more… frustrating guards from trying.

“Ah, High Paladin!” One of the guards chirped down from a gatehouse tower as Touma rode across the drawbridge and called to be let in. “We were beginning to think you’d be sleeping outside tonight.”

“It certainly wouldn’t be the first time,” Touma agreed with a smile. “Let me in.”

“Is that a guest with you, my lord?” She asked, leaning a little further out and tilting her head curiously to the side. “No one said you’d be fetching someone.”

“I was not expecting to,” He replied. “ I came across him in the forest; the Goddess decreed he be my guest until She no longer requires her presence here.”

The guard nodded, disappearing from view as she vanished into the tower. Touma heard the cry and the gate rose a moment later. He rode through to the inner gate, where it was a far simpler matter to have the guards open it, and finally came to a stop just outside the stables of the inner ward.

Several knights and younger paladins close to Touma’s age came to greet him, far too awake by Touma’s standards given the time, but the night owl-types had always been their best in the deadest parts of the nights. “Hail, High Paladin. Did you have a good journey? Who’s your friend?”

Touma was surprised there was no scathing retort in response to being called his friend, only to look down and be even more surprised at the fact Hyouga had somehow managed to fall asleep some time during the ride without him even noticing.

“My guest is named Hyouga,” He said, hoping his shock was kept at bay. For someone so suspicious and occasionally hostile, Hyouga sure was able to fall asleep next to a stranger rather easily. Touma looked across the group of knights and motioned to one that he recognized and knew he could trust. “Help me get him down.”

The others, thankfully, backed up a few paces as Ginjirou came forward to help and Touma carefully dismounted; together they lifted down Hyouga.

Who, apparently, was not as heavy a sleeper as Touma thought, if the immediate vice grip and feel of sharp claws on his and Ginjirou’s wrists were anything to go by. “Unhand me,” Hyouga growled, pulling their hands away from him but not letting go.

While the rest of the soldiers quickly backed further away and drew their swords, Ginjirou simply raised an eyebrow as he looked at the nails digging into his wrist and said, “Ow.”

Touma sighed, resisting the urge to smack his forehead while the Goddess’ warmth pulsed with happy giggles.

“Enough, all of you,” He ordered, pulling his wrist free of Hyouga’s grip. “Hyouga, you are my guest here: Act like it.”

Hyouga huffed in response, but let go of Ginjirou’s wrist and folded his arms across his chest instead. With that settled, Touma turned to the knights and paladins around him. “And the rest of you, put away those swords of yours!”

“But--But he’s a necromancer!” One soldier said. Touma was _definitely_ too exhausted to be dealing with this if that was all he could say in defense of their actions. “What’s one of his sort doing in the keep?”

Before Touma could even open his mouth, Hyouga was on the knight with that sharp tongue of his. “That’s none of your concern, you piddling knight.”

“Piddling—”

“Enough!” Touma barked, feeling the headache he’d managed to shake during the ride back return full force. “You’re dismissed—_all _of you.” When the soldiers had gone, Touma looked to Hyouga. “Come with me.”

Turning sharply on his heel, Touma made his way to the grand, steep steps of the cathedral and entered through the giant expansive double doors.

By the time he was halfway across the main room, Touma realized he was no longer being followed. He turned around, ready to say something to hurry him along when he saw Hyouga hovering in the entrance looking… beautiful, to say the least. Ethereal in the torchlight, at most.

There was awe in his multi-blue eyes; so much that he actually looked his age instead of the hardened adult he’d reminded Touma of in the forest. But he also looked sad.

Something sharp twisted its way into Touma’s chest, and Touma knew the Goddess had nothing to do with it. A hand went to his chest to prod at the armor there; had something struck him? A thorn, from during their tumble? But his hand came away clean, and there wasn’t any sensation of something physical having struck him. He did not want to think about what it was, and he was in no mood to deal with it now. “…Hyouga?”

“What?” Hyouga asked, eyes snapping to Touma and expression hardening into a scowl once more as he strode forward.

Touma bit the inside of his cheek. Should he pry? It was common courtesy to ask, wasn’t it? But Hyouga was a mystery, and mysteries usually never ended well. “Is something wrong?” He asked.

“No.” The answer was immediate, definite, and though Touma hadn’t expected more from the other man it still caused him to wince once Hyouga’s back was to him.

He’d known Hyouga for two or three marks, at best, and where he’d normally have figured out at least the basis of whoever he was talking to, Hyouga constantly alluded and confused Touma. One minute he’d be soft, gentle, and the next it was like Hyouga was at the center of his own castle, wrapped up in layers of defenses Touma kept tripping over in an attempt to figure him out. He stared at Hyouga’s back, searching like it’d give him some sort of clue.

While Hyouga was no knight, he was certainly hardened like one. His clothes were old and ratty, obtained when they were already worn as second-hand or third, but he did his best to take care of them and patch them up where he could, if the off-color splotches of tightly knotted thread were anything to go by, and the belts around his waist were stuffed to the brim with incense and Goddess knows what. What the incense was for was another mystery entirely, but he either used it enough or had enough of it on him that even from this distance and damp from water it was still noticeable in the air.

Then, there was the hair; in all that Touma had heard of necromancers and their trademark streaks of grey and white in their hair, he hadn’t thought of how… strange, it actually looked. But Hyouga wore it well: they made his hair look like the night sky almost, and it only added to his beauty.

“I can feel you drilling holes into my back, My Lord High Paladin,” Hyouga commented dryly. “So if you’re done gawking at the necromancer, let’s continue on with our reason for being here? …Is there where…?”

Touma shook himself from his thoughts, embarrassment and anger clawing at his insides. What was wrong with him? There was time to get lost in his thoughts later, not when he needed to be focusing. He strode past Hyouga, shaking his head. “No, that’s in the keep. Right now, I’m taking you to meet the high priest and in the morning; the king.”

“Ah.” Hyouga took another step forward but then he stopped again, eyes drawn to the windows. Touma could hardly blame him; if the keep was an architect’s dream, the cathedral was an artist’s.

As the heart of worship, a great deal of money had been poured into the cathedral’s construction, and the people tithed generously to make sure it was maintained.

The structure itself was made with smooth grey stone with the floor tiles alternating between each of the symbols of the Goddess: the sun, the moon, the stars, and the blossom. A few of the arched roofs and columns had similar design choices spiraling up them. The walls alternated between panels carved with prayers and windows of colorful glass that depicted images of those prayers. Those who could read followed and studied them from the walls, and those who couldn’t followed along with the pictures and recitations to memorize them that way.

While the cathedral was usually anywhere from moderately full to completely packed to the point people brought cushions and chairs from home during the day, the night watch was completely different; there were only a handful of priests lighting candles or doing other chores, essentially leaving the cathedral deserted. For all Touma liked the bustle of activity, he really enjoyed the quiet moments inside the cathedral the most.

Ryuu took that moment to step through the back door of the main alter, though whether it was coincidence or him sensing Touma’s arrival, he did not know. Ryuu’s eyes met his across the room, and he nodded in greeting. Then his eyes slid past Touma and widened ever so slightly as they landed on Hyouga.

“High Priest,” Touma said, pulling his attention away from Hyouga before something startling was said too loud. “It seems your prophecy has already been answered; the necromancer Hyouga, bidden by the Goddess to come and assist me.”

“The Goddess?” Ryuu repeated, raising an eyebrow as he looked back at Hyouga. His voice didn’t give much away, but the way he held himself almost seemed impressed. “I’ve never known necromancers to do the Goddess’ work.”

“Of course you haven’t.” Hyouga sounded like he’d expected nothing less and rolled his eyes. “You’re an ignorant fool like the rest of your people. We have always served the Goddess, same as any priest, any paladin. She guides me, same as you, no matter how strange our magic may be.”

Ryuu hummed. “If you are a servant of the Goddess, how have we been so unaware? Shouldn’t we know?”

“How could you possibly know?” Hyouga growled. “You beat and ignore us, never asking questions as to _why_ or _how_ and instead decided that we are evil beings that must be punished. We were always there, doing Her bidding, and yet you’ve shunned us for longer than this castle has stood.”

“Then perhaps I am ignorant,” Ryuu agreed, stepping down from the alter and coming to stand in front of the two. “And as such, it would be nice to hear the precise nature of your work. You work in death and banish ghosts, though I know not why.”

Hyouga’s lips curled. “Wow, even the High Priest doesn’t know what we do to keep Hakryn safe? It’s almost pathetic.”

“Perhaps if you stopped being such a child about it and snapping at everyone you met, then we’d know what we need to know.” Touma’s words were harsh; clipped; he was too tired and worn for better manners, though Hyouga did not deserve them at the moment to begin with, and he was even more tired of the fact Hyouga continued to berate instead of teaching them what they’d need to know. “With the way you hiss and claw at every little thing, I would’ve already sprayed you with a hose so many times you wouldn’t’ve been dry for a month had you been one of my knights!”

“You dare to get me wet once again and I’ll do far worse to you and yours,” Hyouga taunted in return, smirking as he continued with far more politeness, “My Lord High Paladin.”

Touma started to reply with a scathing retort, but Ryuu’s sudden, bright laughter had them both freezing in place and staring at the High Priest in shock.

He waved them off, content to keep whatever had caused him to laugh all to himself. “I’ll call for a late supper; you two can eat while you explain everything to me.” Leaving no room for argument, Ryuu turned gracefully on his heel and made his way to his office.

Touma and Hyouga followed, but not before Touma glared at the necromancer and Hyouga stuck out his tongue. He’d just stepped through the doorway to Ryuu’s office when a cacophony of bells filled the air, ringing with such fury whose sole purpose was rousing every inhabitant of the castle.

Letting out a slew of curses, Touma turned back around and bolted from the cathedral to the stables, where a horse—different from the one he’d ridden out to the forest with— was already prepared and waiting with Ginjirou beside it. “I’ve already sent men for your armor, High Paladin.” Ginjirou said, and as soon as he finished speaking the men he’d sent came running over with his equipment and additional weapons.

As they helped him put on his armor, a familiar figure caught his eye as they came to a stop beside the small group. Touma looked up and over at his already mounted second-in-command, Haruka.

“Demons are attacking Snowdrop village.”

For a moment, Touma was stunned at the realization of why Hyouga’s odd accent was so familiar: it was the same as Haruka’s, a mix of many from the different places they’d visited. He shook the thought away from the forefront of his mind and instead focused on the matter at hand. “Ride out, take what you need. We’ll meet you there. Watch yourself.”

Haruka grinned a toothy grin, thought she kept laughter at bay. “I should be saying that of you, young High Paladin,” She teased, before turning her horse to the readied paladins and issuing orders. Within seconds, the ward was emptied of a significant amount of the men who’d been filling it.

As the last of his armor was strapped into place, Touma buckled his weapons and tools to his saddle and mounted his horse, looking at those still waiting. He noticed Hyouga standing off to the side, and though he had the urge to say something—tell him to stay? To speak with Ryuu?— he drew a large blank and instead decided to leave the matter alone. “Move out!” He bellowed, and as the herald sounded the call Touma couldn’t shake the feeling of unease as they made their way northeast towards Snowdrop.

When they arrived, everything had already descended into chaos; fire, blood, screaming, the sound of claws against steel, and the overwhelming stench of demon magic mingling with the sharp tang of the Goddess’ magic.

Touma wasted no time in drawing his sword and charging into battle with a resounding cry that the other men echoed as they, too, joined in fighting back the demons. Their pitch-black skin glowed reddish-brown in the firelight. Their eyes glowed maroon as they used their magic, and their lips were pulled back in snarls that were filled with fangs that spoke more like animals than humans with claws that matched.

There were many stories and theories as to the demons’ origins. Many said they could only come from humans succumbing to black magic. Some said they could breed and that was why their numbers had grown so great. Touma cared not for where the beasts had come from; all he knew was that they fed on the children of the Goddess for their souls and the power they held. Demons could not create their own magic, and so they stole from those of the very Goddess who either cursed or reviled them.

A deep, vicious laugh drew Touma’s attention as he cut down two demons in his way. Movement caught his eye and he whipped around to cut down another as it swung wildly at him. A second laugh filled the air; a demon lord was on the far side of the field.

Muttering curses under his breath, Touma urged his horse towards the demon lord while he drew his crossbow and fired. The bolt lodged itself in the demon lord’s shoulder and did little more than anger him, but that was exactly what Touma wanted.

He let out another battle cry as he raced for the demon lord, his magic flaring as he struck hard and fast. He was struck across the chest and unseated in return, thrown to the ground. The horse reared back and tried to stamp down on the demon lord’s head; Sorin hid a wince as the demon lord turned on the horse and it screamed in its death throes. He climbed to his feet, tightening the hold on his sword, and threw himself back into the fight.

After that Touma lost himself in the fight; the demon lord took all his concentration. Only he was strong enough to defeat one single-handedly, which meant it was imperative he defeat it as quickly as possible.

But why were the demons so close to begin with? They never ventured this close to the royal castle. He hated to admit it, but the fact the demons were growing so bold frightened him.

With a last desperate cry, he managed to lodge his sword into the demon lord’s gut. Not wasting time, he drew a dagger from his belt and thrust it up into the bastard’s throat before grabbing a sword left to fall when its owner was slain. He swung down hard, decapitating the demon lord.

He stumbled away from the corpse, heaving for breath while blood and sweat stung his eyes as they dripped down his face. He tried to wipe it away, but stopped when he noticed that the rest of him was covered in the same along with mud and Goddess knows what else.

He took one step, then immediately regretted it as exhaustion and the use of his powers caught up to him. Before he could faceplant into the ground, however, an arm was around his waist and the other slinging Touma’s arm over slim shoulders and dirty hair.

“Easy there, young one,” Haruka’s said quietly. “Don’t want you falling flat on your face in front of your men, do we?”

Touma smiled tiredly at her. “How many?”

“As many as we dared to hope,” Haruka replied, the smile in her eyes fading at the mention of their lost. “Had you not swooped in when you did, it’s possible we could have lost many more to the demon lord. Casualties of are minimal, but I’ll have final tallies for you in a short while.”

Haruka carefully set him against the trunk of a tree and he groaned in relief. “Get started with the burning,” He said after a moment, examining the battlefield. The bodies and destruction made him flinch; men were already beginning to pile the bodies so they could be burned while others searched for survivors or killed those who too far gone to be saved.

Something else caught his eye and he made to stand only to groan and wrap an arm tightly around his middle as his injuries chose that moment to present themselves.

Haruka had seen the same thing, though, and let out a startled cry before bellowing in an almost motherly chiding, “Hey you! Get away from there! What in the name of the Goddess are you _doing_, necromancer?!”

“My job!” Hyouga snapped back. Beside Touma, Haruka let out a sharp gasp along with the other disbelieving cries the men let out at the sight of Hyouga’s eyes flared with the unmistakable azure of the Goddess. Hyouga turned, and continued his walk onto the carnage of the battlefield.

“His eyes,” Haruka whispered in awe. “They’re like yours.”

Touma jerked in surprise, gaze snapping to her. “What do you mean? Anyone blessed by the Goddess has eyes that go azure.”

Haruka shook her head. “Not like that,” She replied. “His glow like yours and the High Priest’s; no one else has anywhere near that power.” If it weren’t for the way her eyes were still locked onto Hyouga with shock, Touma would have thought she smiled at the fact.

Unable to form a reply, Touma simply dropped the topic and forced himself to his feet while waving off Haruka’s fretting. He walked over to where Hyouga had crouched in the center of the battlefield. “Out of curiosity, what are you doing?”

“As I’ve already said, I’m doing my duty.” Hyouga said flatly, very little of his spite still remaining as he took in the grave scene around them. “Now, I don’t care whether you stay or not, but keep out of my way.” He turned his attention back to the pouch he’d pulled from his belt as Touma took a small step back.

The scent of the incense Hyouga carried filled the air around them, masking the scent of blood and death. A soft, whispered word set the resin to burning in a small metal dish Hyouga had set down on the ground.

He rose to his feet once again and looked out over the battlefield, his shoulders tense as his brow furrowed in… thought? Concentration? Touma wasn’t sure.

“What are you doing?” He asked again.

Hyouga’s eye twitched. He sighed in annoyance but said, “Purifying the field and banishing the ghosts of the fallen. If I do not, then more battles will come to this place and the land will suffer. People passing through? They’ll always fall ill, or face some sort of trouble. Because all things die, but not all deaths are right. Unjust deaths leave malcontent spirits, and spirits poison the land and the people.” He turned his head, scowling at Touma. “Don’t tell me you can’t feel it.”

“Feel what?”

“The sadness in the air? The wrongness? You’re High Paladin—are you really not able feel it?”

Touma blinked. “I feel it,” He said, though he couldn’t stop the defensive edge from making its way in. “I always feel it when lives are snuffed and taken forever; when they are ripped away to feed demons.”

The words soothed some of Hyouga’s ire and he looked back at the field. “Then pay attention, and perhaps you’ll learn something important for once, High Paladin. Generally we can only do this once the area is clear; a small handful of us have tried in front of some knights before, but…” He trailed off, but the rest of the words were clear.

He moved forward a pressed his hands together as if in prayer, murmuring softly, and Touma’s skin prickled as he felt the magic in the air twist and twine around Hyouga—the same as the incense, which seemed as drawn to him as the magic he was summoning.

Slowly, Hyouga spread his hands apart until his arms were fully extended at his sides, fingers splayed and whispers still spilling from his lips. He opened his eyes and Touma had not even realized they’d fallen shut. They glowed azure, just like when the High Priest was in a trance or Touma was lost in battle haze.

What did it mean, that Hyouga was the same as them in terms of power?

Before he could follow the thought the wind kicked up, cold and sharp, snagging the scent of incense and spreading it out over the field of bodies so strongly the stench of death was almost drowned out in its entirety. The incense seemed to follow the trail of magic across the battlefield; the fragrant smoke dancing and covering everything in its wake as it followed the wind that seemed to be guided by Hyouga’s whispered words.

Prayers, Touma realized. Or at least similar, as the flow and rhythm reminded him of prayers.

He shivered as a strange sensation washed over him, and stared as hazy shapes and shadows began to appear in the smoke. He whipped around to ask Hyouga just what was going on but stopped short upon seeing the intense azure in his eyes, the focus on his face and the way it was so clearly taxing him.

No different, Touma realized with a shock, than the way he was exhausted after fighting the demon lord.

In his chest the Goddess’ sudden joy and excitement was so hot it was nearly too painful. What was making her so happy? The realization that necromancers were a lot like paladins and priests?

The answering throb made it clear that, yes, that was exactly the reason.

Confused, exhausted, and no longer sure what he was to do or say after this, Touma simply took to standing and watching as Hyouga continued performing his necromancy. Several minutes passed, and then the strange, shadowy figures faded away.

Touma realized abruptly that he no longer felt as… heavy, as he had before, as he had after a battle. A quick glance over his shoulder showed that Haruka looked like she’d realized the same. He was still overheated, but not nearly as burdened. Something in him had eased.

Before them, Hyouga seemed to droop, and for a moment, he almost looked like he might topple over completely. Touma reached out in case he needed to catch him, but Hyouga proceeded to gather himself and stand straight once again, though his shoulders were still slumped with what Touma knew was heavy exhaustion.

“That was amazing,” He said instead, genuinely impressed and curiosity bubbling inside him. “Like nothing I’d ever seen before.”

Hyouga said nothing as he bent down to pick up the incense.

“If I may—why the incense?”

Hyouga eyed him suspiciously, but gave him an answer and said, “It makes for a good conduit between me and the dead. Necromancers may have the gift to communicate with the dead, but the incense makes it easier, so we use it if we’re able to get it.” His lips quirked into a smirk. “Much like a sword makes it easier to cut down a demon, don’t you think?”

Touma couldn’t stop himself from chuckling even if he wanted to. “They do make things a bit easier.” Levity fading, Touma took the moment to wonder aloud, “Why do we know nothing about necromancers?”

“Because—”

“They’re soul eaters, that’s why,” A soldier spat, interrupting and drowning out Hyouga’s words entirely. He was covered in blood and shaking from violent anger. “They feed on souls, same as demons! That’s why no one wants the filthy bastards; they know they’re nothing but trouble! I’ve seen them do it, too—they’re no different! Leave, demon, no one wants you here!”

Touma caught the man where he would have lunged and threw him into the arms of higher-ranking paladins, giving him a glare. “That is enough; I said the necromancer was my guest and I meant it. He has met with and been approved of by the high priest. His eyes are azure when using his powers which means he is Goddess-blessed; no man with azure eyes is a demon, or close to demon, and if you do not accept it, I will not hesitate to punish those who don’t. Do I make myself clear?”

A chorus of “Yes, High Paladin” resounded through the air, some more enthusiastic that others.

“Get back to the castle,” He ordered, motioning for his officers to get to work and get the rest of the men home. He turned to Hyouga. “I’m sorry; some of these men are… difficult.”

“Why apologize?” Hyouga asked, shrugging his shoulders with nonchalance. “What do I care if he voices what everyone is thinking? Only a few marks ago, you would have taken his side.”

Touma was suddenly glad there was blood on his face, because it could hide the embarrassed flush that’d risen over his cheeks. “I do not take sides unless I have all the facts and understand the situation.”

“And your facts until a few marks ago were wrong. Ah, and then there was when you went chasing after a stranger and nearly killed them in a forest in the dead of night. _That_ was you understanding the situation?”

Touma’s face was so hot he worried he might pass out where he stood. “You were suspicious! And how many times must I tell you, that fall into the lake was not my intention! Do you always make sure wild assumptions?”

“Hm, I don’t know,” Hyouga said, sarcasm dripping from the words before he leveled Touma with a glare. “You try being constantly reviled, beaten, and starving to death and tell me how much patience you come out of it with, High Paladin. I’ve no love for those who attack first and ask questions later, and you were no different. So let’s just go back to the Castle so I can do my duty and get on from this place.” He turned and strode off.

Touma really, _really_ wanted to throttle him.

As Touma walked towards where Haruka was waiting with a horse for him, exhaustion started to weigh him down once again. He’d already been tired and hungry before this, but now he was amazed he was still standing, if he were honest. He swayed and grew lightheaded as he swung himself onto the horse and smiled gratefully at Haruka when she caught him.

She did not look near as impressed. “You seem determined to keel over in front of your men, my lord. I can promise you it won’t make them listen to you more.” She tapped his leg a couple times, sighing softly before dropping her voice low. “Make sure you get some rest once we’re back at the castle. I can handle things while you recover.”

“I’ll do my best,” Touma promised, knowing there was little use in arguing with Haruka. He’d tried once before, and it had not ended well; while he had more power than her in rank, she held more power overall from her sheer protectiveness alone. “Hyouga, are you riding with me or would you like a horse of your own?”

“I’ll walk.”

Haruka let out an unimpressed hum, glancing at Touma before turning back to Hyouga. “With him then.” She decided after Touma gave a small nod. Before Hyouga could argue Touma snatched the hood of his robes so he couldn’t escape and Hyouga let out a kitten-like hiss as Haruka hoisted him up by the waist.

“Let go of me!” He screeched, though he seemed to realize there was no use fighting her and instead glared at Touma when he stifled a laugh.

Shifting further back in the saddle and helping Haruka position Hyouga in front of him, Touma patted his shoulder in sympathy. “You learn to accept the mothering; she’ll even do it to knights older than her.”

“You act as if you don’t appreciate it,” Haruka teased.

Laughing, Touma grabbed the horse’ reins. “It’s not exactly a good look for the High Paladin to be getting looked over and asked questions about his health rather often by his second-in-command. Shall we?” He spurred his horse forward and followed the rest of the soldiers home.

Dawn was creeping over the hills by the time Touma rode into the inner ward of the castle, and he could barely keep his eyes open. He was just lucid enough to order the men who’d ridden to battle to find their beds and get some rest while the ones who’d stayed cover duties until they’d risen—which had better not be later than midday.

With his orders given, he left his officers in charge of the men and grabbed Hyouga to drag him away. “This way.”

He cared not for finding Hyouga his own room at the moment; they could figure it out when they were no longer two steps away from collapsing. For now, he’d stay with him. Touma pulled him up the stairs to his room and locked the door once they were inside. He immediately began to strip, motioning for the man who stood waiting off to the side to come help. When his heavy armor and weapons were removed, cleaned, and put away he dismissed the man before turning to Hyouga and pointing to the bed. “Get in, you’re spending the night here,” He ordered, raising an eyebrow when Hyouga didn’t budge from his place by the door.

Hyouga did the same. “I can sleep in the stables.”

“I don’t care,” He snapped, too tired to deal with Hyouga’s fussiness. “You’re sleeping here; it’s far more comfortable and peaceful. We’ll get you more proper quarters later, when we’re more awake. You look dead on your feet.”

“I’m—”

Pausing from where he was getting into the bed, Touma glared at the other. “Get in bed and sleep,” He ordered. “Or I will knock you unconscious.”

With a huff of annoyance, Hyouga stalked further into the room and to the other side of the bed. He made a show of removing his own weapons and stripping down to the bare minimum, pulling back the sheets on that side and clambering in before holding out his arms as if to show that he’d done as asked. “There. Happy?”

“Plenty,” Touma replied dryly as he dropped his head onto the pillow. His eyes slid shut almost immediately, and he could feel what little hold he had on the world fading fast. “Now sleep.”

Cold skin briefly struck his leg as Hyouga shifted, causing him to sit up with a jerk and stare at Hyouga through hazy, sleep-addled eyes. “Why are you cold as ice?”

“Oh, let me see,” Hyouga grumbled, “It’s autumn, I was knocked into a lake and have been thoroughly soaked for who knows how many marks, and, oh yeah, the dead leech my warmth. It takes time to recover it.” When silence passed longer than he seemed to like, Hyouga burrowed himself under the sheets and turned away from him before continuing gently, “Thank you for the bed, High Paladin. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Touma returned, too tired to do much else in light of the sudden use of manners and information. He settled back into bed once more and let his world fade to black.


	3. Chapter 2: Ghosts

Hyouga was not sure what to make of Hakryn’s High Paladin.

Carefully sitting up the moment he was sure Touma was asleep, Hyouga’s eyes were immediately drawn to the locks of hair that drowned out his vision. He puffed out a breath, frowning; he’d need to get it wet again if he wanted it back out of his face, and hopefully he’d find something that could make it actually _stay_. But while it was bothersome, it wasn’t the main problem at hand.

He looked at the sleeping soldier next to him, fingers twitching with the urge to reach out and touch. He held himself back, instead letting his gaze travel up to the shadowed face. It was dark, but the few times Hyouga had seen Touma made it so he could see it perfectly.

The first time he’d ever seen the High Paladin, Hyouga had just begun training as a necromancer and Touma hadn’t even been a part of the knights. Though Touma had been too young, Hyouga could very clearly remember the boy with long blue hair that he’d been with and how he’d been loudly trying to convince him to join once they were old enough.

The second time he’d seen him, Hyouga had most likely been about sixteen—though he could’ve been off a few years in either direction— and Touma had somehow already climbed the ranks and recently become High Paladin. Other necromancers who’d seen plenty of High Paladins rise and fall, had told him not to get his hopes too high, that nothing was going to change, but Hyouga had let his hopes rise anyway.

When Touma paid no mind—barely bat an eye, in fact-- as his paladins brutally drove two necromancers out of town, Hyouga had felt his heart break.

With the two others gone, Hyouga had been forced to purify the battlefield alone. That battle had been far worse than the one that just past, as well—the battle had raged for two days and nights and killed hundreds. To make matters worse, his powers hadn’t been full strength then. Purifying that battlefield alone had caused the single, vibrant stripe of pure white in his hair instead a streak similar to the dark and light grays that wove through it.

At the reminder of the white, Hyouga shoved his hair back out of his face and held back a growl as it fell into his eyes once again. That night had soured any hope Hyouga had left when it came to finally being respected by the paladins, and looking at the cause of it all beside him, he found it hard to believe they were the same person. Especially when Touma had actually _cared_ enough about him last night to stop one of his men from attacking.

His hand went to his bicep, thumb running over the rough, raised skin of the scar there while he was lost in thought. It was the worst of his demon-bestowed scars: like everyone else, Hyouga had believed everything on the battlefield to be dead, and as it was too dark to see anything by the time the battle had ended, clean-up had been held off until morning. Hyouga had snuck onto the carnage in the dead of night to perform his duty—only for a demon to assault him. It had been badly injured, and Hyouga had no doubt that was what had prevented him from being killed where he stood.

The paladins had been too far away, camped well away from the battlefield, so no one had come to his aid. Not that they would have, anyway. While it wasn’t the first time Hyouga had encountered a demon, it had been the first time he’d done so alone, and it certainly hadn’t been the last. More scars covered his body: from townspeople, soldiers, demons, and even the elements themselves.

Hyouga would have given anything to have someone like Touma at his side— someone who could fight, was meant to fight, and held no fear of battle.

A shiver ran up his spine and Hyouga’s gaze returned to the face of the man beside him before moving down his arm to his wrist. His fingers once again itched to touch and this time he let himself do it. A sigh slipped from his lips as he placed his fingers to his forearm and Hyouga felt like he could nearly sob from how unbelievably _warm_ Touma was; almost like he was about to burst with heat. The warmth spread through Hyouga’s entire body in ways no fire ever could and he closed his eyes, letting himself indulge for just a moment longer. He was so incredibly tired of being so cold all the time, of being so drained, all because he and the other necromancers were fighting a battle they were never meant to fight alone.

Guilt pressed uncomfortably into his sternum and he pulled away, curling his fingers into a loose fist to keep himself from touching Touma again. While it seemed he had warmth to spare, it felt… wrong, to take it without asking. Just the thought of asking made his stomach roll with nausea; he could easily imagine how the High Paladin—not to mention the rest of the Paladins—would react to such a request, and it was never good.

The thought had Hyouga getting out of the bed, unease making him restless. He put his discarded clothes back on, lamenting the way they were still uncomfortably cold and had new tears and holes he didn’t have the supplies to patch up. The tumble down the hill and into the lake had left plenty of mud and grass stains and he tried to find some light in the situation by noting that, really, they weren’t _that_ noticeable.

Pulling on his final robe, the chill settled in the damp cloth reminded him that winter was quickly approaching; he’d have to make his way to his cabin soon if he wanted to survive through the snowfall. While Hakryn wasn’t near the Lost North, it was famous for its early snowfalls and harsh, long winters-- getting caught in the middle of one was never a good idea.

He hoped his time at the castle would be brief and ignored the ache that had no right rising up in his chest at the thought of leaving. Sure, he’d been treated well enough by Touma, and his second-in-command didn’t seem all that bad either, but his welcome to the castle had hardly been warm and he’d been here a total of maybe three marks at most. If anything, he should be eager to go instead of hating to leave.

Walking over to the sole window in the room, Hyouga pulled back the tapestry and looked down into the inner ward below. He shuddered at what he saw: the entire castle was _crawling_ with ghosts. How did no one realize? Did they not feel it? Notice that it was always chiller than it should be, or that illness was unusually bad, or that fights happened with uncommon frequency? Nightmares, sadness, confusion… the entire castle was hidden beneath a violent fog of misery and pain caused by the presence of life-leeching ghosts.

But considering the sheer number—he knew plenty of castle occupants were still sleeping, so his calculations were probably off— and how there seemed to be two ghosts for every person, Hyouga had a feeling the castle had been so buried in misery the inhabitants had just grown used to its presence and were unaware of it.

With a small sigh, Hyouga let the tapestry fall back in place and quietly left the room to explore the halls. He resisted the urge to pull up his hood; the last thing he needed was to look more suspicious than he already did. If anything, it would just provide an easier excuse to lock him up, beat him, or throw him out of the castle entirely. Being out while the rest slept was already a precarious move, but he was too used to being awake at night and it was far too odd sleeping in a bed, not to mention sleeping with someone else in it as well. His home in the woods had a hard-packed dirt floor occasionally visited by gophers or moles, a fireplace, a worktable, and a stone chest he used to keep food cold and away from animals. The table and chest were hard enough to obtain, a bed was a foolish thing to hope for.

Nearly every room and hall he visited had at least two ghosts inside it; never in his life had he seen a place so overrun. He could _feel_ them chipping away at his life-force, stealing back what little warmth he’d taken from Touma. Because he was a necromancer and could see and banish ghosts, it made him a favored target: get rid of the bigger threat first, then move on to the smaller ones.

Hyouga shivered, though he wasn’t sure if it was from the cold still clinging to his clothes or the ghosts. Sure, there were some who were… borderline friendly, but many were eager to drain anything in order to stay longer, or didn’t even realize they were dead and had no control over how much they took. He didn’t even want to_ think_ about the number of ghosts that had to be crammed into the ward, and he knew for a fact he wasn’t going to try entering the ward by himself.

More than anything, he wanted to banish the lot of them. His nerves were practically vibrating with the desire to purify the castle, but the show on the battlefield had taxed him. He knew he should have left it for the necromancers who would have undoubtably been drawn to the place, but… he wanted the soldiers, had wanted _Touma,_ to see what a necromancer was meant to do.

He ignored the little voice echoing in the back of his head that he wanted Touma to see _him_.

That was a road he didn’t want to go down, filled with pain and heartache. So instead he’d throw himself into the role he was given: to speak with Itsuki’s ghost, learn the identity of his killer, and then purify his soul.

Purifying the castle would take years, at least. There were too many for one necromancer, and many had been there for so long, it’d take more than just a basic purification to banish them. Then there was the issue of how much energy it’d take to do it all.

If he had help, it’d be possible to do it in a few months, perhaps even a few weeks. But that would require more necromancers, and he highly doubted that they’d let _him_ stay that long, much less summon others to join him.

Hyouga warded off an angry-looking ghost of a solider that was coming towards him and continued his explorations. He paused outside a door that had Touma’s energies wrapped around it and death just beyond; the constant tugging sensation, the sorrow he had felt for days, finally eased. He rested his hands on the door, then his head, and closed his eyes. _Be at peace, Itsuki. I cannot restore your life, but I can grant you peace._

Leaving the sealed door, Hyouga continued down the hall and froze in surprise as the ghost of a paladin came running for him while shaking his hands as if to tell him not to come that way. Before Hyouga could react to the odd display, five men turned the corner soon after the ghost. They stopped in their tracks and scowled as they realized who he was. “You there!” The one at the head of the group snapped. Out of the corner of his eye, Hyouga caught the ghost looking grim and worried.

The lead man strode towards him, armor and sword belt rattling, boots scuffing on the stone floor. His dark teal tunic was stained, dirty, and what looked like dried blood covered the knuckles of his right hand. “What do you think you’re doing, skulking about the castle?” He grabbed Hyouga’s arms tight enough to bruise and shook him roughly; Hyouga kept his face carefully neutral even as disgust roiled in his stomach from more than just the man’s breath.

In the dying light of torches, his face looked mean. It was the face of someone who kicked things just for fun and took pleasure in their screams. _How had such a man been made a paladin?_ Hyouga wondered. _What possible purpose could the Goddess see a man like him?_

“Unhand me,” Hyouga said coldly. He tried to twist free, but that only made the man hold him tighter and Hyouga only bit back a cry of pain because he refused to give the bastard the satisfaction.

“What are you doing wandering the castle, soul-eater?”

“Nothing,” Hyouga said. “I am used to being awake at this time and simply thought that my time would be better spent familiarizing myself with the castle, that’s all.”

As expected, the men all sneered and jeered—except one, who silently stepped back, turned, and quickly walked off, going back the way they’d come. Hyouga felt his eye twitch slightly and tried to ignore the bitterness rising up over the fact the man had fled rather than stand up to his friends. Honestly, what had he expected to have happen?

Hyouga snarled as the men dragged him off, trying to fight them with each step but knowing well he was light as a feather to their hulking frames. It didn’t help that they pulled him along too quickly for him to get a proper foothold or even grab his dagger due to the grip they had on his arms. They pulled him from the castle and out into the ward, the ghost who’d tried to warn Hyouga of their presence trailing behind disheartedly as they threw him to the ground.

One of the men crouched and drew Hyouga’s dagger, humming as he studied it with interest. Then he threw it across the ward and mockingly patted Hyouga’s cheek. Hyouga glared and tried not to hiss as he was allowed to stand, drawing his magic to him and hoping he had enough to do _something_ to break free without causing harm. If he hurt any of them, no one would listen to him and they’d toss him out of the castle right back to square one.

His thoughts flitted to Touma, but he shoved them away immediately. There was no help there.

Though the violence the men were about to inflict was at the forefront of his mind, the ghosts were his real concern. Strong emotion brought more life energy to the surface, made it easier to leech away—and the more that was leeched, the more that rose up in a vicious cycle that, if not stopped, would end only in tragedy. “I mean no harm,” He said. “I really was only—”

He cried out in startled pain as he was backhanded, the paladin who struck him still wearing his gauntlets. Hyouga could feel the blood on his cheek and in his mouth, eyes watering from the force of the blow.

“I’ve seen necromancers before. You sleep in graveyards and steal souls. You’re filthy almost-demons and you shouldn’t be allowed in the castle. I don’t care what that high and mighty_ brat_ says.” He made to slap Hyouga again and Hyouga managed to step away just in time.

“Leave me alone!” He snapped. “Get a priest to verify I have done no wrong if you must! But don’t you dare touch me until you’ve proof I deserve to be punished.”

Someone shoved him from behind, laughing cruelly, and rough hands grabbed him, smacked him, shoved, pinched, twisted— Hyouga heard the awful sound of his clothes tearing even further. Someone yanked on his hair, bringing tears to his eyes. Within moments Hyouga found himself trapped in another nightmare, familiar and painful. He did his best to block it out and fight off the worst of it, but ultimately he prayed that he’d pass out sooner rather than later.

“_Enough!”_

The single word was roared so loudly and with so much power, the castle seemed to shake with it; everyone in the ward went still. Brilliant blue light flashed and the men assaulting Hyouga fell to their knees with pained cries, holding their heads.

He looked up from where he lay huddled on the dirty stone of the ward and stared up at Touma, who looked fierce and furious and beautiful. It made something in Hyouga’s chest twist and ache: he hated Touma for that.

Touma drew closer and Hyouga tensed, briefly wondering if the High Paladin would ignore any progress they’d made towards understanding each other—and let out a heavy sigh when Touma began to beat his assailants so harshly it made what Hyouga suffered look trifling.

When the men had been broken and knelt in a battered row before him, Touma turned to Hyouga and helped him to his feet. He took off his cloak and wrapped it around Hyouga’s shoulders, frowning as he took in whatever sorry sight Hyouga made. “Are you alright, Hyouga?” He asked gently.

“I’m fine.”

Touma carefully gripped his shoulders and made their eyes meet. “I said you would be safe, and that vow has proven false. I’m sorry.”

Hyouga shoved the fluttering in his stomach down as far as it would go. “It’s not your fault,” He said sternly. “It’s not even entirely _their_ fault. Because their anger drew the ghosts of the ward here, the leeching of their life energies made the anger worse. While I would have been given quite the beating, it would not have been as bad had the ghosts not been here.” He blinked at Touma, tilting his head to the side. “Do you not recall what I said last night, about ghosts being dangerous? That’s one of the reasons.”

“Ghosts?” Touma repeated, eyes widening. “I never realized—”

“Liar!” One of the men snarled. “We found him wandering the castle all sneaky-like! He was going to do something—”

“I said enough!” Touma roared again. He released Hyouga and whirled to face and address the rest of the occupants in the ward. “I said the necromancer is under my protection. He is here by the will of the Goddess and is _not_ to be harmed. If you suspected him of foul conduct, you should have detained him and summoned me. You are lucky that Ginjirou _did_ come to get me, because if I found my necromancer dead then you would have joined him in death.”

The men recoiled, genuine fear filling their eyes. Touma glared at them. “There is _never_ a good cause to mindlessly beat and torment a man. You, paladins, I am especially ashamed of. You wear the Goddess’ colors and fight in her name: your behavior this morning is a dishonor to your fellow paladins and to Her Grace.” He held out a hand, his eyes glowing vibrant blue. “Your powers I bind, your ranks I strip, and you will be locked away until I believe you have paid suitable penance.”

The men all glowed, crying out in pain once again, then fell silent, their heads hanging low and shoulders trembling. But the man who first attacked Hyouga was not yet done speaking. “Necromancers are little better than demons. _Ghosts?_ There are no ghosts. He is lying, and he is up to something. You will regret not listening to reason, _High Paladin_.”

Anger filled Hyouga’s chest, not quite at the jab against necromancers, but at the malice the man held towards Touma—ghost-amplified or not. He drew himself up, discarded Touma’s cloak, and gathered up what little power he’d managed to collect before the thrashing. Pressing his hands together in prayer, he closed his eyes and began to chant, slowly drawing his hands apart as the spell was cast.

As he finished and opened his eyes, casting his power out across the whole ward in a wave of pale silver-blue light, every ghost the light touched shimmered into view. People screamed as they saw them, recoiling and crashing into each other as they attempted not to be touched by the ghosts.

Hyouga swayed on his feet as his head swam, the use of his power so soon after the last large banishing and his exhaustion finally catching up to him. The ghosts flickered from sight as he fell, but instead of hitting the ground he was swept up against a wall of amazing, unbelievable warmth. “My Lord High Paladin,” He said, trying not to laugh and eyes too heavy to open.

Touma gave a soft chuckle that made Hyouga feel strange, his voice warm and silvery in Hyouga’s ear. “I was wondering where that wit of yours had disappeared to. Is there anything I can do to help you, necromancer? Besides take you to the priests for healing?”

“Warm,” Hyouga breathed before he could stop himself and barely aware enough of what he said to care. “You’re so warm.”

“Yes? You’re like ice,” Touma replied as Hyouga slipped into darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Real quick, just want to leave a note saying to check out Megan Derr, an AMAZING lgbt+ writer with a ton of great books! One such book is what this story is completely based around, _Black Magic_. It's got an amazing set of characters and the plot, as you'll hopefully see, is /wonderful/. I've read it something like five times and it never ceases to amaze me each time I read it. 
> 
> It also has some not-kid-friendly scenes in it, so I recommend buying/reading it once you're 18+ (don't worry this fic won't have them) but it's well worth the wait! Thank you kindly, and hope you enjoy the rest of the story!


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